


bird bones (can't make you fly)

by firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Ace Character, M/M, Monsta X Bingo, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin/pseuds/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin
Summary: Hoseok dreams of wings. Beautiful, majestic wings, spreading slowly and pointing at the sky, longing, wanting, needing, wishing. He dreams of bright white feathers and fragile bird bones, shivering, breaking, slowly, painfully. He dreams of candle lights fading, dying, and then there’s only darkness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this means. I just wanted to write for my otp and then bANG there was angst and first love (wings) playing in a loop inside my head.  
> oh, well :D have fun :D

_ "You know what happens when you dream of falling? Sometimes you wake up. _

_ Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly." _

(Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections)

.

Jooheon’s wings are not strong enough to make him fly.

Hoseok knows it. He’s not stupid. He sees it in his glassy eyes, in his tense shoulders and how he holds onto himself so closely, so carefully, fingers curled around the brim of his long sleeves. He sees it, he feels it, he  _ tastes _ it. The fear, disappointment, despair lurking at the corners of Jooheon’s mind, wrapping their cold hands on his guts, locking him inside a cage of self-doubt.

Jooheon’s wings don’t carry his race’s usual power.

It’s written on his face. It shows when he holds his breath at the lightest sign of danger, how his hands are always tapping anxiously on his thighs, and the small cuts and scratches he hides with colorful band-aids. It’s deep in his bones, in his heart and his words, how he talks quietly, so slowly, hiding so many things Hoseok can’t even start to  _ count. _

Jooheon’s body can’t keep his wings.

It takes Hoseok time to notice it. At first, he thinks he might be projecting his worry ― he’s been observing Jooheon for so long he thinks he might be imagining things. But then he notices it’s not. Gunhee’s instinctively drawn to people who need control, and, although they have a group surprisingly  _ big _ of friends, he’s always at Jooheon’s side ― he’s always touching him, leaning onto his shoulder, he’s always interwining their fingers or somewhat holding him. For some time, Hoseok thought they were together; only that would explain all kinds of feelings flooding both of them when they look at each other, the intimacy, the care soothing the distraught emotions crawling through Jooheon’s system.

And it worries him. It worries him because Hoseok knows Jooheon since he was a toddler. He saw him grow up, saw the longing in his eyes when all his brothers and sisters started developing their powers and keen senses. Hoseok remembers looking at a five-year-old Jooheon and thinking that his wings would be the most beautiful in the whole world, that the boy with bright eyes and a singing soul would one day rule the sky. And then ― then the incident with Minkyun happened. Then he stopped looking at the sky and started looking at the ground. Then his wings never came, and Jooheon stopped smiling. (Hoseok remembers seeing him cry once ― just once.)

He doesn’t think things will get better. He doesn’t believe things will magically get better. Jooheon gets thinner and thinner as time passes, his cheeks hollow, dark bags under his eyes. And every time Hoseok tries to reach out to him, every time Hoseok does as much as glance his way, Jooheon shuts down to him. And it’s not even the easy thing, where he avoids the subject and Hoseok for a few days and later both of them pretend it never happened ― he  _ shuts down _ to Hoseok, completely, he doesn’t talk to him, doesn’t look at him, doesn’t even greets him. It’s the kind of silence that eats Hoseok from inside out, that makes him feel as if everything’s slowly being drawn to an inevitable end, the fear, the despair, the hopelessness. Hoseok always ends up apologizing, because he can’t bear to see Jooheon so hollow.

“You scare him.” Gunhee confesses, one night, when both of them are stargazing.

And Hoseok doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand.

“Why?”

Gunhee’s eyes are sad, even more so when he offers Hoseok a soft smile.

“Because you see things you shouldn’t.”

  
  


Jooheon still avoids him, but not like before. Hoseok stopped asking, so there’s no reason for him to keep running ― but he’s still wary, his eyes are still scared and his shoulders still shake a bit when Hoseok comes closer. And the older can understand it; or, at least, he thinks he does. He doesn’t ask anymore, he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t pry off. Not because he doesn’t care ― he does ―, but because it doesn’t work, not with Jooheon, not like that.

He doesn’t start from nothing. He links their fingers together, he wraps an arm around Jooheon’s shoulders, he holds his wrists and rubs his thumb in gentle circles at the back of the boy’s hand. And Jooheon tenses up, at first. He tenses up, and his hands are cold, and he curls his fingers defensively, eyes wide and shoulders rigid. Hoseok doesn’t comment on it, he doesn’t tell, and, slowly, Jooheon stops dreading he will.

It’s not on Hoseok’s plans to break his trust on him.

  
  


[When they hug, Jooheon always instinctively leans on Hoseok’s shoulder, nuzzling onto the side of his neck and breathing slowly. He likes to wrap both his arms around the older, squeezing him tightly, breathing slowly, Hoseok’s hands resting on his back.

And Hoseok feels ― under the tip of his fingers, under Jooheon’s skin, fragile bird bones, moving, shaking,  _ fluttering. _ Made of raw despair and hurt, begging for freedom to a body that won’t ― can’t ― hear it.

He closes his eyes, and buries his face against Jooheon’s heart, and breathes.

And stays. Stays.]

  
  


If asked about it, Hoseok would say he knows many things about Jooheon.

He knows he can only sleep when all the lights are out. He knows he has sweet tooth. He knows he likes silly things and colorful matches and being gentle to anyone around him. But he also knows Jooheon doesn’t like sleeping alone. He knows Jooheon likes rainy days when he can curl up comfortably on the couch and watch movies all day, but he can’t bear to stand and watch a storm. He knows Jooheon hates being cold, but can’t help it, because that’s how his body works, hence why he always wears big clothes that can engulf him whole and make him feel safe.

And then ― then there are the things he learns.

Hoseok learns Jooheon likes to hold hands; not because he needs it, not because he won’t be able to cope with his daily routine if he doesn’t, but because it grounds him. He likes it because it makes him feel safe and warm inside. Hoseok learns Jooheon likes to hold onto people, to be friends with everyone he can, to have the feeling he’s helping, he’s close, he’s  _ welcome. _ Jooheon likes to be cuddled, to be comforted, but he likes even more to comfort people.

It’s a whole new side of him, and Hoseok’s wonderstruck.

 

[He didn’t think he’d ever see this side of Jooheon again ― the young boy with a heart way too big to his body, the dreamy eyes, the hope laced onto his quiet words, the way he fiddles nervously with his fingers when he’s embarassed, looking up from his lashes with a soft gaze, cheeks tainted red.

When Hoseok tells Kihyun this, the pink-haired guy stares at him for a few minutes.

“You’re stupid.” Kihyun finally declares, after a moment of silence. “And in love.”

Hoseok doesn’t think he’s right, but he knows Kihyun’s not wrong either.

He doesn’t comment on it.]

 

Jooheon and Gunhee are still close ― just as close as they were before Hoseok decided to butt in and make himself at home, as close as they’ve been since the start of it all. And that doesn’t change because of him; Hoseok wouldn’t want it to ever change, so he’s mostly happy about it. It’s not uncommon for him to find them both cuddling and snuggling together, and Hoseok takes a liking to joining them on their routine, sometimes snuggling closer to Jooheon, sometimes cuddling Gunhee instead.

And it’s okay. It works for them. Gunhee’s not eager to get close to Hoseok, but he’s not opposed to let him in either, and that’s okay.

“You make him happy.” Gunhee says ― and shrugs ― when Hoseok asks him if he doesn’t mind him basically  _ coming out of nowhere _ into their friendship. “As long as he’s happy, I’m happy. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Hoseok thinks he should, but Gunhee tells him he doesn’t.

So he doesn’t. He doesn’t.

 

[Hoseok dreams of wings. Beautiful, majestic wings, spreading slowly and pointing at the sky, longing, wanting, needing, wishing. He dreams of bright white feathers and fragile bird bones, shivering, breaking, slowly, painfully. He dreams of candle lights fading, and then there’s only darkness. He wakes up sweating, all his body numb, heart beating so fast there’s a constant buzz in his ears, too much noise that makes his head hurt.

He cralws out of bed and goes to Jooheon’s room. The younger sleeps peacefully, all his body relaxed, features softened by slumber, and it makes Hoseok want to cry. He sniffles, and rubs his eyes, and comes to lie at his dongsaeng’s side. Jooheon’s icy cold, breathing slowly, and Hoseok wraps his arms around him, carefully, pressing his forehead between the boy’s shoulder blades.

And breathes. Breathes.

 

The next morning, Jooheon doesn’t ask him the reason behind the nocturnal visit. He only turns around, buries his head onto Hoseok’s hair, comfortably pressed against him, and mumbles about wanting blueberry pancakes for breakfast.

Hoseok doesn’t have the heart to deny him anything.]

**Author's Note:**

> Any question/request/desire to talk about anything (or just scream about random things, wHO KNOWS), you can contact me here, [ tumblr](http://firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin.tumblr.com/), [ twitter](https://twitter.com/notmadetobeheld) or [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notmadetobeheld) :3


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